Perpetual Ruminations

Hannah...

My last entry on Thursday was about my return and waiting for a diagnosis on Hannah, my canine companion. I was waiting to hear what the vet had to say after her visit on Friday morning.

She had been feeling well, as far as her actions and interactions, not showing any signs of discomfort. Her problem was, she would not eat very much; she showed interest in food, but would only eat a small portion at a time. She had also begun to drink more water than usual and her abdomen was getting larger. Except for the loss of appetite, she almost appeared to be pregnant, although that was very unlikely.

On Thursday, she refused to eat anything and seemed to have some motor function problems. She was a bit unsteady on her feet, and she needed help getting into the car; We knew she was in need of some professional help and called the vet. He wasn't taking new patients, but when we explained her condition he said he would give her a check-up on Friday at 8:30 in the morning.

As the day progressed, she continued to show more signs of weakness and instability and stopped drinking any water. However, she would eat snow when she went out and seemed to want to go out whenever she felt thirsty. She still did not seem to be in any discomfort and tried to perform her regular activities, but she was unsteady on her feet and by late afternoon could not get into or out of the car, she had difficulty balancing, and now needed help to go up or down the three steps going outside.

By evening she was having difficulties getting up and moving, her legs just seemed to not support her and she had to have help moving from one place to another or she would stumble and fall. I still held out hope that the vet would find a cure, but I also faced the fact that she was likely not going to be with us much longer. I talked to our two children and explained this to them, so they could spend as much time with her as possible.

By 10:00 that night, she was unable to stand or move, however, she still did not show any signs of pain or discomfort. In fact, she would try to stand and fluff up her bed: she did this by pawing at her blanket with her front feet, usually until she had a tangled mess. Now, however, she would tip over or her hind end would just collapse back down. She also continued to try and go anyplace I went, as she has always done.

I knew she was nearing her end and was doubtful she would make it to her scheduled appointment. Even more difficult to think about was if she started to show any signs of pain and the likelihood that her vet visit would be for having her put to sleep to end any suffering that seemed likely to come.

My wife made up a softer bed for her next to the couch and slept there beside her, offering comfort and security. Hannah did seem to be comfortable, secure, and at peace, as she would sleep. I sat up with her, watching her ready to go to her anytime she showed any signs of discomfort, fear, or restlessness. She could no longer get up, but she would still lift her head a bit and look over to see if I was still sitting beside her.

I would, at these times, get out of my chair and lie beside her, petting and comforting her. Still, no sign of pain, but when she did this, I could see the fear in her eyes. Since she could no longer go out to eat snow, I brought it in for her and let her keep her mouth and through moist. I found I had to scoop a bit in my hand and put it to her muzzle, she could no longer see the bowl.

But, she would relax to my touch and voice, fall back asleep, and seem very comfortable and peaceful for about a half hour or so and then we would repeat this through the night.

At a little after 3:00 in the morning, she again woke and was looking toward me, but she could not raise her head any longer. I again went to her and comforted her with both touch and soothing words. She closed her eyes, her breathing slowed, and she seemed to return to sleep. But as soon as I stopped caressing her neck she would open her eyes again. So, as I spoke softly to her so she would know I was still close by, I made room beside her and lie down and resumed rubbing her neck and shoulders as I talked with her.

She closed her eyes and seemed to drift off to sleep, but I did not stop comforting her. For the next hour, she slept and even snored a bit as I rubbed her shoulders and neck and talked with her.  Shortly after 4:00 a.m., her breathing became short raspy breaths and she would convulse a bit. I found by increasing the pressure of my hand she would calm a bit, her breathing would slow again and she seemed peaceful. But, her breathing was still rasping in her lungs and her body was tenser.

We continued lying together, me talking softly by her ear and caressing her as her breaths became shorter and shallower. She would tense more, then relax as I increased pressure and massaged her more than caressed. At about 4:25, she had a convulsion and then went still, the tenseness in her muscles was gone and she was very still; her only movement was the slight rise and fall of her chest. I still massaged her neck and shoulders as those breaths became shallower and slower until at 4:35, she let out her last... my faithful friend was gone.

My heart was heavy with loss, but at the same time, I gave thanks that she was able to spend her last night at home, was not in pain or suffering, and I was able to be there with her. For ten years she has been faithfully at my side; I'm so thankful that for that one night, I could faithfully be there by hers.